


deoxyribonucleic acid don’t mean shit

by guide_to_the_galaxy



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherhood, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guide_to_the_galaxy/pseuds/guide_to_the_galaxy
Summary: Raph has a hard time being alone. Donnie reminds him he'll never have to be.
Relationships: Donatello & Raphael (TMNT)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 142





	deoxyribonucleic acid don’t mean shit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiramasu-art](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tiramasu-art).



> and here's another commission for yall!! ive had my share in donnie angst so i thought i'd give raph a fair shot at it!

It’s 2013 when Raph truly finds himself alone. It’s a night in November and his brothers are sick and Pops decides he needs more than herbal tea and incense and a prayer or two. They need real medicine, and so he sets off to get it. **  
**

“You stay here, watch them for me please,” he instructs Raphael, who looks up at his father with big, eager eyes that eventually settle into resolution.

And though he wonders _where_ exactly it is that his father goes, Raph focuses himself a little bit more on the task of watching over his brothers in the den- where they created a Sick Fort, a mess of all their blankets and pillows and miscellaneous things thrown in to make it comfortable and warm. 

Raph is thankful it’s not the flu; that would be _way_ harder to manage. But not impossible. 

He’s _ten_ now, so he can pretty much take on _anything_. 

Raph settles into the tangled interwoven pile of his brothers and keeps the blankets he knitted over their shoulders. 

In 2013 Donnie also has a rat. They’re super easy to come by where they live and Pops had a tough time saying no because Donnie just turned nine and wanted absolutely nothing else but to keep his rat, Stewy. 

Or, maybe it was Mickey….

Anyway, in 2013- the year of Raph’s first loneliness and the year of the triple sickness- is also the year Donnie’s rat, Stewy or Mickey, got loose. 

Raphael is partway dozing off and fighting sleep and keeping Mikey’s twitching leg from hitting against Leo’s plastron, _and_ listening to Donnie sleepily talk about how he really wants to meet Lady Lass or something and ask her does her body hurt when it stretches- it’s between doing all of that when Raph hears the rat scurrying across the den. 

And Donnie must hear it too, because he stops talking and perks up as much as his achy body allows. 

“D’ya hear that, Raph?” he whispers, voice rasp with sleep and sickness and from just being nine, and he uses Raph’s shell to stand up, pushing all his weight on it.

Not that Raph minds, still sitting in the blankets, Leo’s drool on his thigh. 

Donnie looks around the lair, it reminds Raph of meerkats like the ones they watch on the tablet together.

“Yeah…yeah I heard it,” he answers his brother, careful as he transitions Leo’s head onto a pillow to stand. 

Donnie isn’t as much smaller than him as he used to be, but he’s still little, and so Raph puts his brother on his shoulders for a better vantage point. 

“You think it’s your rat?”

“Stewy.”

_So it’s Stewy._

“Yeah, him,” Raph whispers, and surveys the floor, “But I don’t see-”

 _“Holy_ Christmas lights! There!” Donnie nearly topples them both over as he leans forward on Raph’s shoulder, “There, there, there, there, _there, Raph!”_

And Raph catches sight of the little thing, it races out the kitchen and across the den, and he runs after it, careful to keep Donnie upright. But Stewy is really fast, actually, despite being overfed by Mikey, and gets out the lair faster than Raph can reach the turnstiles separating their home from the abandoned underground station. 

The gasp Donnie makes is probably the most dramatic one Raph has ever heard, and his brother simply goes and drops himself off of Raph’s shoulders.

Raph just barely catches him from connecting with the concrete. Pulls Donnie up to his feet.

“Jesus Christ, Donnie, are you crazy?!”

Donnie looks _mad-_ which is admittedly worse than him bawling. He looks angry and teary and Raph prepares for the blow up. 

It doesn’t actually come. Donnie simply breathes heavily- in and out- curling and uncurling his fist when his breaths quicken. Then he wipes his nose, and tries breathing regular again. 

It’s painful watching but Raph would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. 

He stoops, only a little because Donnie’s taller than he was when he was eight, and Raph doesn’t touch him; he knows better than to do it. 

“You good?” he says, as quietly as he can, as soft, “It’s okay. I-I can go get the rat.”

Donnie’s face fights against screwing up. “It’s _Stewy,_ Raph,” but his voice still shakes when he corrects Raph, “I have to. We have to get ‘im _back.”_

He coughs, wet and mucusy, and Raph sighs, only hanging his head for a moment.

“No, Dee, ya gotta stay here,” he says, “You’re sick.” He adds, when Donnie opens his mouth to protest.

“I’ll go. I’m sure Stewy ain’t too far, right?”

And, gulping, Donnie nods, looking and breathing better, which is great, Raph thinks. He offers his brother a smile that promises, and doesn’t expect the full force of a hug, but takes it warmly. 

It swells Raph’s chest (and maybe just a little, his head). He feels braver than he’s ever had. 

//////

The bravery and bravado lasts not too long, actually.

Raph is five minutes out from home when he stops hearing Donnie’s repeated _are you okay,_ and when he decides that maybe embarking on a solo mission to save a rat was not the smartest idea. 

He’s ten or so minutes out when Raph thinks up the idea of grabbing just about any rat he sees running past his feet and going back home with it. There was hardly anything distinctive about Stewy.

But Raph knows Donnie, and Donnie knows what is his. He’ll probably smell the difference, because he bathes Stewy twice a day. 

_“Oi vey…”_ Raph mumbles, running a heavy hand down his face, “It just had to be _your_ pet, Donnie.”

Because if were Leo’s or Mikey’s he could fool ‘em, or they’d get bored and forget. _Not_ Donnie. 

So Raph is twenty minutes into his search when something happens. He’s never been this far, and things start getting unfamiliar. His chest tightens, like an instinct he can’t identify with that’s telling him he’s gone too far. 

Raph fights it, because he can’t go home empty-handed, but the feeling pushes itself into him fiercely, like a burn. It brings him to his knees. 

And Raph doesn’t see much else but blinding white in his vision before this new instinct takes over fully.

It takes two days to come back to himself. He doesn’t find Stewy. He tells Donnie, brokenly, that he’s so sorry. And Donnie calls him an idiot, but he’s not angry.

He tells Raph that Stewy, may his soul rest in peace, can _shove_ it. Donnie tells him to _never_ do that again. 

* * *

It’s 2019 and Raphael has grown to understand his friend, his instinct. It happens in 2014, when he gets separated in a game of tag in the park on Halloween. 

April finds him, her voice- sharp but loving- tells him to _snap out of it_. And he’s back, a few shredded candy bags strewn along the mulch. 

Again, in 2016. It’s his fault; he wants to test out his limit and winds up with the taste of raw fish and seaweed stuck on his tongue for a week. 

And now, Raph is reeling from another one. His head still feels light and he doesn’t trust himself to eat much else for fear he’ll throw it back up. These trips get less fun to come back from, though they were never exactly fun to begin with.

They’re just way more of a hassle, and depending on the circumstances, they take a while to really leave him. 

So Raph, despite all sense, decides isolating himself is they key. But not far off where those instincts will kick in; he stays in his room and just sleeps it off. 

But there’s a science to this, he’s certain- there _has_ to be. Because Raph can’t piece this together; he’s got no fear of being alone, not one that keeps him up at night, and yet when his is alone….

Raph finds himself in his brother’s lab, after sleeping it off doesn’t shake the questions. He sits on Donnie’s desk, because Dee swears it’s durable and can hold the weight and Raph trusts him. Donnie wouldn’t risk his shit getting messed up for anything besides maybe a theory or a fight. 

“I just wanna know how you do it,” Raph says, shrugging, “I mean, ya stay hauled up in here for _hours_ , or-or even days an’ nothin’. I can’t even be out there without you guys f’ twenty minutes.” 

Donnie is listening, this Raph knows despite the way his brother looks utterly in tune with his work. He’s still, which means he’s trying hard to really _hear_ Raph, and to understand. 

And Raph gives him the time to digest and to think up what he wants to say; there’s hardly a rush or pressure when it comes to them. 

Finally, Donnie swivels his chair to Raph and leans forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I was wondering how many of these it would take for you to _finally_ _ask_ ,” he almost laughs with relief, and Raph laughs from it too. 

“What, so you gotta theory or somethin’?”

Donnie quirks a brow, “Oh sweet summer child, I have more than theories,” he presses a smile, “It’s your internal conflict. Naturally. As a snapper, your prime directive is to be predatory. You’re on defense, you mark territory, make it yours and _defend_ it.”

Raph swallows a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, but feels worse anyway, “So I’m, like, predestined to do that?”

He doesn’t try to mask the hurt and fear- all things Raph feels he feels openly, and hiding it is pretty much futile. 

He’s glad he doesn’t, but even if he did Raph knows Donnie would find a way to decipher his feeling anyway. 

Donnie looks up at him, and there is soft understanding. He places a hand over Raph’s knee and gives it a pat.

“But you’re also part human, and that makes you protective, and caring and desiring to be with those you love- which is cool. It’s kind of a paradox but not really…it’s just…you. And that’ll always win out over your trips.” 

Raph stares at Donnie for a minute. It feels like longer. And Donnie stares back with a bit of a grimace. 

“Why’re you-”

“I’m gonna hug you now,” Raph says, abruptly, still staring, “Is that okay? I’m gonna really, really hug you. Like, forreal.”

And Donnie doesn’t protest it, he just awkwardly opens his arms to Raph and lets him in. It’s not a super long hug, Raph squeezes tight since the protective shell’s on, and when they do break away there’s relief. 

**Author's Note:**

> *gives these boys a billion hugs*


End file.
